In the golden grey

still, every year

my heart rests in my mouth

browbeaten

battered by the

weight

Of these words

like pebbles in my chest

pressing deftly 

to the floor

The pull and sway

of fraying ropes

of violent ends

with lips on fire

waiting.

Always waiting.

I really love how powerful and evocative Johnnyclyde's Electric Winter is. So I wanted to give it another listen and see what words fell out on to the page.. I just kept thinking about the inventor conducting the whole thing like a symphony- watching all the particles come together, dancing up a storm both violent and graceful.

It's very rough and a little in medias res but I wanted it to be a free associative sort of thing so just typed it straight into here.

combative.

fighting for space. 

I am leaping between the spaces

of

cold static air

blistering fragments  

whipping into snow

swirling trails into the crisp

fractured and beautiful

dancing up a storm

in sheets of ice and bitter cold

I am alive.

I am here.